As someone who’s studied the classics from every civilization that kept records, I know some societies placed great store in repetitious dreams. Are you in the habit of having dreams like that?”
“Not for a while, and the only one I remember is this one time we were supposed to go somewhere, but the night before, I had this awful dream and tried talking mom out of going.”
“As the story goes, I kicked up a fuss and hid in the closet, delaying the time we were supposed to leave, which she was not pleased about at the time. There was an accident on the highway we would’ve taken at the time we would’ve been there, a lot of people died. Mom bought me my favorite ice cream that day and let me do whatever I want.” She got a wan smile on her face.
“Maybe your mom came to know the real Becky before she died and knew she wasn’t a true friend; that’s why she came to warn you in the dream.” She looked pensive as if giving my words some thought.
“Maybe, but when I think of it now, I think there was more to it. I can still remember the urgency I felt coming from mom. That part has stuck with me. I just don’t recall much of anything about the dream now.”
She had no idea that while she talked, my mind was compartmentalizing her words, moving things around to form the picture that made the most sense. I listened to her try to make sense of her fucked up childhood without much luck, each word adding another stab of the knife I have aimed at the heart of Rebecca Fontane.
“Maybe it’s because of that dream that I’ve never been able to open up to Becky, never been able to trust her or accept her, let her in. And I guess it put a damper on whatever relationship we might’ve had going forward, and it showed. Though I learned to keep my true feelings hidden over time, she just never forgave me for the way I acted in the beginning, I guess.”
“You were a child; she’s an adult. Don’t start making excuses for her.” It’ll only piss me off.
“Do you remember anyone else that was close to your mom?”
“Most of the women in the neighborhood were. We used to have playdates at least twice a week. It’s just that after mom passed and dad married Becky, they didn’t come around as much, and then after a while, not at all.”
“How did their daughters suddenly become Victoria’s friends and not yours?”
“I’ve never been quite sure of that. I just know she made up some lie, and things went downhill from there. She started doing all the things with them I used to, like dance and gymnastics, but somehow, she and Becky would always make it to where I no longer felt welcome. When she started making everything into a competition between us, I chose to back off; it was easier that way.” She shrugged unconcernedly, but I knew she was anything but.
She lifted a brush I hadn’t noticed to her hair and started brushing. I followed the movement of her hand for a while, almost mesmerized. I wasn’t aware of moving until I found myself standing behind the chair, taking the brush from her hand. She purred like a kitten by the tenth brushstroke, and the sound stopped me in my tracks.
I carried on playing in her hair more than actually brushing it, fascinated by the feel and touch of it as it played across the backs of my hands and slid through my fingers. The room was still except for the sound of brush bristles gliding through silk.
I don’t know how much time had passed before my arm grew tired, and a look at the clock showed that it was well past midnight; I’d been at it for hours. What’s more, she was fast asleep in the chair, a pleasurable half-smile on her lips.
I didn’t think twice before lifting her and taking her to my bed, making sure she was settled beneath the covers before going to take my midnight shower. She was still snuggled in neatly when I climbed into bed beside her, properly decent in a pair of hated pajama bottoms.
I was barely settled against the pillow before she rolled into me and threw her arm across my chest, which made falling asleep nearly impossible. I drifted off listening to her breathe while willing my body to calm dafuq down. Parts of me that I’d trained myself to ignore were once again getting out of control because of her, and the scent of her hair as it tickled my nose didn’t help.
In the morning, I came fully awake and flung myself out of bed before I embarrassed myself. I stood in the shower minutes later, looking down at my dick, glaring at it like a best friend who’d betrayed me. “What is wrong with you? Since when are you allowed to think for yourself?” Bastard just jumped as I soaped up and fought hard not to pleasure myself to thoughts of her. This is bad; this is really bad.
I marched into the bedroom after toweling off and pulling on a robe to tell her that she must never under any circumstances come to my room that late at night again, but she was gone. I deflated like a pricked balloon, and that quickly, my irritation disappeared.
Knowing her, she was probably almost as embarrassed to wake up here. Besides, what if she needs me again in the night and refuses to come to me because of some foolish edict given in the heat of whatever this is.
I resigned myself to the knowledge that when it comes to her, I’ll always put her needs before my own. Knowing that that might cause problems with other things in my life somewhere down the line is not something I want to think about right now.
BECKY
It’s morning! I’ve just spent the most hellish night of my life alone in a cell, without any human interaction in the last eight hours. By the time someone came around, I was ready to light into them until his words stopped me. When I was told that I had a lawyer, I figured it was Felix’s doing. If there’s one thing I know, it’s that he’s all about appearances.
My worry now was how much was he told and what does he believe? I’d spent the night thinking of excuses for what happened and knew there was very little breathing room. My best bet is to pretend that I got the money from the bank; that way, I can buy myself some time. I’ll say it was for Victoria that I was trying to cheer her up after she’d been expelled.
Worst case scenario, he gets mad that I’d tried to spend that much on something frivolous, while the alternative didn't bear thinking about.
“You’re in luck. Your lawyer has got you a hearing before the judge this morning. It looks like someone is paying your bail.” Again my mind went to Felix, because who else? Then I started thinking about what little I knew about the justice system and felt a lot better. Isn’t it the law not to give bail if the crime is really serious? Obviously, this wasn’t as bad as I’d been thinking.
There was no sign of Felix in the courtroom; then, again, I can’t expect him to have hung around New York until morning. He had to get back for work after all, and Felix never misses work unless there’s an emergency. Adding more fuel to my assumption that my crime was not as bad as those two agents had tried to convince me it was the night before, I barely spent any time in the courtroom before I was being told I was free to go.
The lawyer tried telling me about a pending court case in the next few months, but I tuned him out. I was more interested in the here and now. I have to find that man who’d bought the car and get it back, which shouldn’t be a problem since he wouldn’t want the cops to know that he’s the one who’d passed me the bogus cash.